


A Helping Hand

by Jemster, TeamTormund



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Briemund Anniversary, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemster/pseuds/Jemster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTormund/pseuds/TeamTormund
Summary: Tormund receives unexpected help in his attempts to woo Brienne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the amazing Elenatria for allowing me to use this art. Check out her own fic "Tormund's wedding." http://archiveofourown.org/works/10614180/chapters/23472456

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund swallowed the urge to spit into this hand.

Tormund let out a defeated sigh and sat up, watching Brienne’s broad back dissolve into the night. He touched his forehead and couldn’t help but smile upon seeing blood on his fingers. What a woman! Knocking him down with a single blow… What a cruel joke of the gods, to let her be born in the south, where no one seemed to realize how amazing she was. Not even Brienne herself. If only she’d be one of the Free Folk, Tormund would have stolen her the very night he saw her for the first time. But Jon warned him to not even think about it. This time Tormund had to do it with words only. But it seemed he could never find the right ones. Especially since this piece of southern shit with a golden hand showed up. Jaime Lannister, or whatever the cunt’s name was. Nobody seemed to be happy about his arrival, except for Brienne. Such a waste…

Tormund sighed again and moved to finally stand up, as someone stepped out of the shadow right next to him. He looked up only to see Jaime Lannister standing above him with a smug grin on his face, holding the good hand out to him, as if he wanted to help him to get up. Tormund swallowed the urge to spit into this hand. He got up and cleaned the snow off of his pants, completely ignoring the other man, and turned to leave.

“I can help you… with Brienne…” Tormund froze where he stood“…or kill you. Depends on what you want from her.” Tormund spun around and stared at the man in surprise. If this was some kind of a joke, the southern cunt was going to pay for it, no matter the consequences. Surprisingly Jaime’s expression was serious, ominous even. But Tormund didn’t feel any urge to answer. As the silence stretched on, Jaime spoke again.

“What do you want from her?”

“Why’d you want to know?”

“I care about Brienne. A lot.”

“She can take care of herself.” Tromund couldn’t help but let pride slip into his voice.

“Oh yes, she can” Jaime said with a tiny smile, but then his expression turned serious again. “But sometimes words can hurt more then fists. If you’re playing with her…”

“I want her to be mine and give birth to my children.” Tormund cut in in a firm voice. Those same words earned him Brienne’s fist in his face only minutes ago. But this words were true and Tormund was ready to fight anyone, who dared to doubt it. Jaime only nodded. “In the South a marriage is irreversible. You will be bound to each other until death.” Tormund sneered “So in the South only a law can keep you in your wife’s bed?” The two men just stared at each other for a long moment, and again it was Jaime, who spoke first.

“Very well then, I’m going to help you. Brienne is… complicated. You’ll have to learn some things about her and be patient.” Tormund only grinned in response. Jaime stepped closer “Let us continue somewhere more warm.” But as Tormund turned to lead the way, he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. Jaime leaned closer and whispered menacingly “If you’ll hurt her, I’m going to cut you down like a pig.” Tormund chuckled “If I ever hurt her, I’ll be dead before you’ll reach me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She shouldn't have hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my co-authors for kicking my ass.

Brienne wasn’t paying attention where she was going, she just needed to escape. She would have run, but her pride made her slow down. She would not give him the satisfaction to see her flee.

“Be mine, bear my children,” his words echoed in her head over and over again. Would it ever stop? Would men ever stop pulling jokes on her, or did she have to endure it until she died? Among all of them this filthy wildling was the worst. No one was as persistent as him. Usually men would drop their act soon, bored by the lack of a reaction from Brienne. But Tormund kept going, until tonight he crossed the line. Who did he think he was? Who did he think _she_  was? Did he really think she was stupid enough not to see through his game? Brienne was furious with herself. She shouldn't have hit him. She should have remained cold and distant, but instead she let herself be provoked by him. She hoped to never see him again after leaving Castle Black. Not that she would wish him to die in battle. Just to be somewhere else far away from her. But Tormund was here and showed no intension to leave, despite being given the lands of the Boltons. And he showed no intention to stop bothering her. 

Brienne stopped and looked around her. She was in the hallway leading to the kitchen. How thehell did she end up there? She was about to leave when she heard voices from one of the rooms. The door wasn’t closed properly and a small ray of light slipped into the hallway. Brienne wasn’t interested in servants’ gossips, but one word made her root into place - “…Tormund…” She knew she should leave, he caused her enough trouble for one day. But instead she came closer to the door and peered inside the room. There were two wildling women, part of a group that stayed in Winterfell, not fit enough to travel to Dreadfort. Brienne had seen them a couple of times. The older one was limping badly and the young one, her granddaughter, was skinny and always angry.

“I’m just saying he should choose a woman of the Free Folk and not some southern bitch,” the girl was spitting the words out as if they burned her tongue. The older woman chuckled. “You mean he should choose you.”

“Why not?” the girl lifted her head. “I will not sneer at him like _she_ does. He’ll see I…”

“He _sees_ , that you are small and weak. You'd die with the first child. And she has giant's blood, no doubt.”

“Can’t be! There are no giants in the South!”

Brienne gasped. They were talking about her! The first time Tormund tried to talk to her, he asked if she had giant's blood. She almost punched him then. But the way this woman just spoke of it, as if it was something admirable… Brienne’s thoughts were interrupted.

“She’s a maid! They even call her that. _Maid of Tatt,_ ” the girl busted into laughter. Brienne could feel a heat rising up her cheeks.

“So what? Do you think you’re better ‘cause you let every boy with an itch poke you?” the old woman shook her head. “And from what I’ve heard, Tormund knows what to do with a maid.” Now the old woman was laughing. The girl jumped to her feet. “He’s a man of the Free Folk! He should…” she was almost screaming but her grandmother cut her off in a stern voice.

“Yes, he _is_ a man of the Free Folk. And that’s why he’ll take a woman he wants, and not the one someone thinks he should. And now enough of that! We have work to do.”

Brienne rushed away from the door. Her head was buzzing. Could it really be like that? Could Tormund have really meant the things he said?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought that a woman can be jealous of her was absolutely ridiculous.

 

"It's just some stupid gossip, it doesn't mean anything." It _should_ mean nothing to her. Brienne was fretting in her bed, unable to sleep. The events of the day wouldn't let go of her. Tormund's words, the look on his face as he said them. Brienne could see it clearly before her mind's eye, he looked almost desperate as he blurted it out. No, no, it's just her fantasy playing games with her. He couldn't have meant it seriously, it has to be another cruel joke. And this girl in the kitchen is just jealous. Brienne almost laughed out loud. The thought that a woman can be jealous of _her_ was absolutely ridiculous. The girl is young and clearly into Tormund, that makes her see competition where is none. She's going to realize soon enough, that Tormund is just playing a game. "But what if he doesn't? What if he really wants you?" a tiny voice whispered from the back of Brienne's mind.

"It's not going to change anything. Nothing at all!" Brienne whispered over and over again, until she finally fell asleep.

Brienne bumped into Tormund first thing in the morning. Well, "bumped" would be the wrong word for it, he just walked past her, without any word or look in her direction, like she was just an empty space. Brienne stopped in her tracks. After the day before she was ready for anything, except for that. So she just stood there, staring at Tormund's back in utter surprise until he disappeared.

Brienne entered the stables still confused by Tormund's behavior and her own reaction to it. Podrick was still busy with the horses, they were about to train with him fighting on horseback that day. Brienne frowned, the horses should have been ready by now, but Podrick was still fumbling with the gear, avoiding her eyes and generally looking nervous.

"Podrick, what's going on?"

"Nothing, my lady. Nothing..."

"Podrick..." he finally looked up at her. "My lady, do you know why Tormund is so... upset? He didn't even answer as I greeted him." Brienne could feel heat rising in her cheeks. "And why should I know about Tormund's moods?" the words came out harsher than she intended. Podrick cringed and looked down again. "Sorry my lady... I don't... I just... I saw him yesterday with Ser Jaime!" he finally blurted out. "And now Tormund has this cut on his forehead..."

"What?!" Brienne could swear her heart skipped a beat. "When? Where?"

"Yesterday, after the training. You were already gone and I stayed to clean up. And when I went through the courtyard, I saw them in a corner. But I didn't look closely." Seven Hells! That must have been right after she punched Tormund and left. What if Jaime saw it? Oh no...

"What were they doing?"

"Nothing, my lady. Just looking at each other, I think." This was not good, this was absolutely not good. Brienne's heart was pounding like crazy. She needed to talk to Jaime right now.

But Brienne hadn't seen neither Jaime nor Tormund through the entire day. Jaime rode out with King Jon and Davos, and no one could tell her where Tormund was. By the time Brienne entered the common room to have dinner, she was just a bundle of nerves. Neither of the two men were here yet. Brienne sat down, trying hard to concentrate on her meal only. Tormund was the first to come in. He took his food and settled in the far end of the room, with his back to Brienne. Before today he would always sit somewhere he could watch her, making sure she would see him as well. Brienne didn't realize she was staring at Tormund's back who was hunched over his plate, until something blocked her view... Jaime. He and Bronn just came in and the latter was already making himself comfortable next to Tormund. Jaime leaned over and seemed to whisper something to Tormund, than he clapped him on the shoulder and made his way to where Brienne was sitting.

"Good evening, my lady. You look quite... you today." he sat down across from her and accepted the plate a servant offered him. Brienne could still do nothing but stare at him, utterly confused. Finally Jaime noticed her and stopped eating. "Is something wrong with my face? Do I have a second nose?"

"What?"

"You're staring at me. So I've asked you if something was wrong with my face." 

"No, no! Your face is fine." Brienne blinked rapidly and let her gaze drop to her own plate. "Jaime, what happened?"

"What should have happened?"

"You and Tormund! Podrick saw you yesterday. What happened?"

"Nothing. We met in the courtyard, than came here for a drink and a nice little chat. Nothing more."

"Did you to fight?"

"Why should we fight?"

"His forehead."

Jaime laughed out loud. "Do you really think that if we fought I would let him go with only this tiny thing? He got it earlier. If you ask me, it must have come from an angry lover. I've heard those wildling women are quite fierce."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get more than you bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place right after Chapter 1.

Jaime looked around, his eyes skirting but taking note of the people who watched his every move. Stark's men and commoners both took notice whenever he would be in their vicinity. Jaime had only arrived at Winterfell a scant few days ago but he could feel eyes on him no matter where he went. He knew even with the uneasy peace brokered between him and Jon it could fall apart if one person decided to get bold and try and make a name for himself by trying their luck with Jaime. Let them, he thought, I could beat them all. Well, he'd have a hard time with the man on his right but he was confident that he could best him even with the one hand.

"My room won't work. For some reason, they set me up in the smallest, most dark and drafty room in the entire place."

"Maybe because you're a.."

"I know why, you nit. The statement was rhetorical."

Tormund stared at him. Was this barbarian daft too? Jaime was anything if not magnanimous. "Rhetorical means the question does not require an answer."

"Then why did you ask it?"

Jaime blinked a few times before he realized the fur wearing warmonger meant every word. He just tipped his head back and laughed. When he looked at the Wildling again the man was staring at him still with the same expression. Did this ingrate have a look that wasn't angry, blank or annoyed? Jaime honestly didn't have a clue. Either way, by the end of this evening he supposed he'd find out.

He suddenly had an idea. "Let's go to the common room. There should be no one there at this late hour. We can discuss how best to get Brienne over to your side."

 

He glanced over to his companion as they made their way to the common room with its luscious fire and the heat it contained. Jaime had been at Winterfell only once before but that was a long time ago and he had arrived the second time a different man. All that was due to the woman who had knocked this beast to the ground. Truth be told, Brienne could have done a lot more damage to his companion but chose to show restraint. That in itself was very interesting.

Opening the solid wooden door, carved by craftsmen long dead, Jaime's nose grabbed onto the scent of mutton roasting. Gods how he hated mutton. Greasy, stringy, and the taste...his stomach threatened to bring up everything he had ever eaten in the last year if he continued further into the room but he still went on.

Out of the corner of the room, he heard the laughter of a man apparently trying to wiggle his way into the graces - and bed - of one of the serving wenches. Wait..he recognized that laugh. What was his hired hand doing here? He had told him to keep a low profile. But this was Bronn. The man couldn't stay inconspicuous if he tried.

And he didn't really try.

Jaime tiptoed behind the chair and noticed some blonde strands sticking up beyond the elaborate stitching. Looking around the side he saw Bronn squeeze the girl closer to him as he attempted to connect his lips with her neck but the woman was clearly trying to get away and got Jaime's blood boiling.

"Ah, Bronn!" he said. "I see you have made an acquaintance while here. Would you care to share the name of your lovely companion with me?"

A curse and a flurry of activity followed his rather loud pronouncement and he straightened himself just in time to see Bronn push his companion away and distance himself from his new friend. She took the opportunity to turn and flee from the hall.

"Ah! There you are Lannister. So nice of you to join me and.." He looked around and then shrugged as he noticed the girl gone. "Oh, bloody hell. Like I would remember her name anyway. Come to think of it, I never asked." He turned his attention back to his employer. "So, what brings you to this lovely hall at so inconvenient an hour for me?"

Jaime turned and pointed to Tormund, "I was just about to instruct this northerner on the finer points of wooing a certain southern woman."

Bronn just then took notice of the other person in the room. "Who? Him? Looks like he just came back from fucking one of the horses." He quickly looked back to Jaime. "Our horses haven't been compromised, have they?"

Jaime heard Tormund grunt as the two stared at each other. "Ah, no. I don't think horses are his thing." He glanced at Tormund. "They aren't, are they?"

Tormund rolled his eyes and looked like he was clearly losing patience with this endeavor. "No."

Bronn stepped back in surprise. "The savage speaks! Well, I'm sure he will fail with whatever advice that is given. By chance, who is this southern woman that you speak of? I happen to know a lot of southern women. Perhaps she is an acquaintance of mine." His lips curved into a wicked smile. Jaime had no desire to know what his companion was thinking at that moment. He was certain no one else did either.

Jaime waited until the right moment which happened to be just as Bronn was taking a sip of his ale. "Why yes, you do know her. It's Brienne."

Fermented liquid spewed all over the chair Bronn had been sitting in. He sputtered as he tried to get the ale out of the wrong pipe.

Jaime feigned concern. He moved to Bronn's side and tapped the other man's shoulder as the sellsword regained his equilibrium. "What would a high-born woman like Brienne want with him anyway?" Bronn said in between coughs. "I thought you were more her style."

Jaime looked over to Tormund but the wildling didn't show he cared, only that he wanted to get on with it or leave. He couldn't honestly tell which one it was. "That's the thing," he continued. "I think she actually may like him."

"What?" Bronn screeched. "And what gave you an indication this was the case?"

"She didn't kill him when he propositioned her."

Bronn pointed to Tormund. "He propositioned her and he's not dead? That settles it then, she must be in love with the poor bloke." Bronn nodded, more to himself than anyone else. "You know what, I'm in."

Jaime blinked in confusion, "You're in for what exactly?"

"To help you get this man in her bed. Someone should be fucking her. You clearly aren't going to be dropping your pants in her presence anytime soon so I reckon this fine gentleman here should at least get some useful information. And if I know anything it's how to get under a woman's small clothes and then off of her. Fucking and fighting are my specialties after all." Bronn winked at Tormund who just scrunched up his face and looked at him. Seeing no one there he turned back and walked to a vacant seat by the fire and planted his ass on the cushion.

Bronn and Jaime gave each other one last long look and followed Tormund's lead, taking seats to either side of the Wildling. Both opened their mouth to speak at the same time and closed them. Jaime pointed to himself and mouthed, "Me first" to the other man. Bronn nodded and leaned back in his seat to watch the show.

Flashing on last warning look at Bronn's direction he finally leaned towards Tormund who had taken to combing through his beard with his fingers looking for only The Father knew what.

"Alright," began Jaime, "Let's start by going over how people in your culture find mates."

Tormund stroked his beard. "Usually, if we're with our clans, before Mance came along and united most of us, a group of five or six men would travel to several far clans and observe their women. If they found one they liked they came back a few times to watch her and if they wished to marry her they would sneak into the camp and steal her."

Jaime was aghast. He had never heard of such a barbaric practice. "Steal her? That's what you do? No wonder why Brienne knocked you on your ass."

Tormund waved his hands in front of him, "No, I didn't try and steal her. I couldn't steal such an impressive woman. Besides, I didn't need to."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Jaime had to hear this. Whatever the bearded man in front of him had to say it was going to be good.

"Because she stole me."

**Author's Note:**

> I offer you a challenge. How would the story go from here? There are no rules except one: Tormund gonna get the girl!
> 
> Please share with me your ideas and I gonna add them as chapters.


End file.
